Venom
by sCyanide
Summary: "The old me would probably have broken down already. I could almost imagine him sobbing on the chair and begging for your forgiveness, even though he hadn't done anything wrong. But now I know better, as you betrayal ripped me from the childish naïvety and forced me to grow up." Slight AU.


**Because there are too few Airman fics! D:  
**

**One day, I was sitting in my social studies class, and suddenly this idea comes to my mind and won't leave me alone. I really love angsty and bitter Conor, so no wonder I had to write this as soon as I got home and on computer (Gah, finished this at 3am ;_;). I also decided to try something new. Tell me what do you think ~**

**Warnings: **Swearing, angsty and bitter Conor, a little AU

**Disclaimer:** Would you even believe me if I told you I'm Eoin Colfer? No? That's what I thought. So apparently I own nothing. x)

* * *

**Venom**

* * *

I sit before you and stare straight into your blue eyes, not moving a muscle. I can see your lips moving, but I can't, _I don't want to_, hear the bullshit pouring from your mouth. Every cursed syllable you let out... I don't need to hear them. I already know what you're telling me, I'm not deaf. At the moment you stepped through the gates I knew the rumors were true.

You're going to close the prison.

Every now and then you glance at your papers and after that meet my never-ending gaze with your own. You don't waver as most people do, I gotta respect you for that. But that's all the respect you're going to get from me. You destroyed my life, and I'm not going to forget that.

You handle me a paper and a pen. _Please sign this_, your voice forces its way into my ears. Not averting my eyes from yours I snatch the pen and write my name,_ the only name I had anymore_, on the thin line. While doing that I wonder if you even know who's sitting in front of you. Do you recognize _the traitor_ sitting on the other side of the table? But if you do, why are you letting me _free_?

I reach my hand to give the paper, my ticket for freedom, back, not breaking our staring contest even for a second. It's a battle of the wills, and I'm damn determined not to lose. This is _my_ territory and no one, not even the marshal of the Saltee Islands, will stare me down. You arch an elegant brow and look at me in curiosity, probably wondering why I'm not saying anything.

Newsflash, I have nothing to say to you.

The old me would probably have broken down already. I could almost imagine _him sobbing_ on the chair and _begging _for your _fucking forgiveness_, even though he hadn't done _anything wrong._ But now I know better, as _you betrayal_ ripped me from the childish naïvety and forced me to grow up. I have no reason to cover before you; hell, you're the one who should be apologizing while weeping on the floor. _You're_ the one who destroyed lives, not me.

I see you're starting to speak again, most likely asking something. But I won't listen. You can ask all you want, but I'll never answer you. You don't deserve even that. I wasted _years_ because of you, _thinking of you_, there's no way in the hell I'm going to give you even more my time.

Your brows furrow and I know you're confused, even a bit frustrated. You have gotten so used to everyone listening to you and treating you like a king. How does it feel when a crazy drug dealer a.k.a _an assassin_ disobeys you so bluntly? Does it hurt your pride? Even a little bit? I hope so.

I know I shouldn't let the anger and hate swallow my mind, but I don't care anymore. For years I managed to survive only by refusing to feel anything. After all that pain, the emptiness felt like heaven! And then you forced yourself back to my life, or actually my younger self forced me to return for you. All that anger and bitterness buried deep inside my mind surfaced at once. And I'll tell you, that was not a nice feeling.

Though I gotta admit, it had it's pros. Like burying that dagger in Bonvilain's heart. That was a true bliss.

But getting captured and dragged back to Little Saltee was not.

And seeing you again is a pure hell.

You let out a heavy sigh and lean back on your chair closing your eyes for a moment. A silence falls in the room, the only noise being the waves hitting on the cliffs outside.

"Can't we be civil here, Finn?" you ask so suddenly that I have no time to tune you out.

_Finn_.

The name you and Bonvilain gave to me. I fight the urge to laugh out loud. I feel like a love child between you two. Though I'm not your child, and you definitely don't know a shit about love. And why should I behave and listen to you? You didn't listen to me four years ago. No, you only _disowned_ and _threatened to kill me_. Hah, what a great father you were.

No, no father. I don't have one, I never had. If you were so keen to believe the lies Bonvilain told you, you don't deserve to be called my _father_. I feel like I never even knew you. What the hell were you _playing _for my whole life?

You sigh again and shake your head in disappointment. I can see you're at your limit, and I know it wont take long for you to explode. But why should I care, you already ruined my life! You can't possibly take any more from me. Well, maybe my worthless life, but would that even satisfy you?

"I see..." I hear you talking again, but this time I'm too tired to try to tune you out. So I'll let you speak. "If you don't want to talk... It's okay, I understand..."

I snort. Since when have you _understood? Anything?_ How much are you going to feed me bullshit a day?

"...But I'd like to hear your side of the story at some point. So If you could please visit the palace or my office some day. After you've settled of course."

I feel my brows knitting together in flaring anger. My side of story, you say? You could have gotten it fucking _years ago_, if you just had given me a fair trial. And a real interrogation would have been nice, too! Are you finally starting to doubt Bonvilain's lies? Too bad that's _four years too late_!

I stand up and turn towards the door, not wanting to see your damn face anymore.

"Finn, I understand you must feel angry, but..."

_Finn... The freaking Finn again!_ Are you seriously trying to convince me that you're sorry, while refusing to call me by my _first name?_ Yes, Conor Finn has been my name for the last four years, but I doubt you would call me that if you really felt remorse for what you did.

I don't honestly know what to think anymore... You presence makes me _so angry_, but at the same time you are waking the old Conor up, with his _disgusting weak feelings._ Sadness... remorse... longing... That shit makes me almost feel sick!

I hurry to take the few last steps towards the door. I'm going to walk out of this room, out of this cursed island, and never look back. I won't make the same mistake by returning to your life ever again. All this anger prevents me from starting over and forgetting my old fucked up life. I can't keep wondering "_why"_ for the rest of my life.

As the thought leaves my mind, I feel myself halting at the door. After this you won't be seeing me anymore (isn't that what you wanted?), so what would it hurt to ask one more time?

"How can you sleep at night?" The question leaves my lips before I can even begin to doubt asking it.

"I'm not sure what you mean", I hear you say, slowly. Figures.

I turn to look at you in the eyes one more time and repeat my previous question. You only blink seemingly confused and say you have no idea what I'm talking about. I feel a slight frustration flowing through my body, why do you have to play such an idiot?

"How can you live with yourself?" I felt myself snap, the frustration that had been building for years finally releasing. "You know, I always respected you and when I grew up, I wanted be just like you. Brave, self-conscious, selfless, highly respected. But I guess I was deadly wrong..."

I truly looked up to you. I wanted to be as great as my _father_ was. I wanted to be the best son a father would wish for. But something went wrong... I don't know what happened, but one moment you were the best dad in the world and next you wanted to _kill me._

The guilty expression on your face won't fool me anymore. You already showed me your true colors years ago. Do not try to play a caring father, not now, never.

"How could you do something like that? How could you treat _your own flesh and blood_ like that?" I almost cry feeling my chest tightening. Questions I wanted to ask so many years ago keep pouring from my lips, and there's nothing I can do about them. "How could you think that _your own son_ could kill somebody? What went wrong? Why did you believe everything Bonvilain said so easily? Why wasn't there a proper interrogation or a fair trial? What in the name of the devil possessed you to throw your _fourteen-year-old son_ in a prison?!"

Something wet is running along my cheekbone, and I don't even need to touch it to know what it is. For the fuck's sake... I'm crying... In front of you. All that pressure is too much for me to handle. I've gotten used to being in an almost emotionless state. So all these emotions... They're just too much...

Not being able to face you anymore I turn away, but keep talking. I'm not finished yet.

"I don't know why you're here and why you wanted to talk with me so much, and honestly, I don't care anymore. I haven't cared _for years_. If I had, I wouldn't have lasted a week in here", I tell you trying desperately dry my eyes. I don't want the others see me crying when I'll step out of the door. Even though I'm not going to stay here any longer, I have a reputation to keep up. "Just... Go to live your perfect little play with your new family and leave me fuck alone. I don't want anyone reminding me for that façade that was once called my previous life."

I reach for the door knob and twist it slightly. Tho door opens a little and I throw the last glance towards your face. You look ashen, shocked... horrified. Serves you right.

"Do not try to contact me or look for me. The playtime is over, I'm not going to take part in your games anymore." The door opens and I step out of the small room. "Goodbye."

I hear your breath hitch as I'm stepping into the corridor. And just before the door slams shut behind me, I hear you crying my name. _My old name._ But it's too late. You had your change four years ago, when the old me, Conor Broekhart was still alive. But now he's dead and there's no return. There's only the cruel Mr. Conor Finn, who cares no one but himself.

As my legs take me to a ferry that is about to leave, I take one last look at the building that had been my home for three years of four. I hear you shouting my name once again, desperation in your voice, but I decide to ignore it. Why would you even care? Don't try to tell me you just suddenly decided to regret everything.

Too late. I'm already beyond caring.

The ferry takes off and I turn my back to the island and you, not looking back even once.

I'm sorry _father_, but this is how the things should be. I don't belong in your world as you don't belong in mine. If you want to blame someone, take a look in a mirror. The one who ruined everything with his ignorance and hate will be there.

_I promise._

**_THE END_**

* * *

**...or is it? What do you think? Should I continue? o_O  
**

**The story may have seemed a little confusing, but I kinda like it that way... Still I feel like I have to explain some things. x)**

**This is a little AU, since I changed the ending of the book. In this version Conor was a lot bitterer and angrier, and he was actually the one who killed Bonvilain during the dinner. But being unable to forgive his father and others, he never did revel his identity and fled after his dagger pierced Bonvilain's heart. Nevertheless, a some time later, he got caught and dragged back to Little Saltee by some prison guards. Later Declan and Isabella decide to shut the prison down and while going through prisoners' files they come across Conor's name. Only then they remember that Bonvilain had framed someone for helping Victor to kill the King. And the guy was called Conor Finn...**

**Thank you for reading! :)**


End file.
